


Eyes

by HorseCrazyWriter76



Series: NaNoWriMo November 2019 [20]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, Minor Angst, Very minor Roman Patton Remus and Deceit, familial analogical - Freeform, not beta read or edited
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-28
Updated: 2019-11-28
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,216
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21589219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HorseCrazyWriter76/pseuds/HorseCrazyWriter76
Summary: You might wake up and notice you're someone you're not.Prompt from: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=XkCA2XqUJ4o&list=OLAK5uy_kf2mr4s7G3ErS-ruCXgDFFwY8HyHQijfA&index=2&t=0s
Series: NaNoWriMo November 2019 [20]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1541089
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Eyes

In everyone’s lives there are certain constants. There were simple constants that were always true, like the fact the clock’s hour hands would pass the 12 two times in a day. There were also constants that weren’t necessarily true, like the assurance food would come at a certain time, or that everyone’s eyes would change colors sometime before you turned 5.

Of course, everyone’s eyes  _ had  _ changed so far. When Logan and Dee were 2 they had been fighting over what a pencil was called when Dee’s eyes had gone dark. Logan had screamed and one of the caretakers had come over and taken Dee away.

When Roman and Logan were 3 they had been fighting over whose turn it was to play with a train when Roman’s eyes and turned white. Logan screamed and Roman was taken away.

When Logan and Patton were 4 Logan had been looking through a book on his own when Patton asked him to play with him. Logan had looked up, and Patton’s eyes had gone white. He wasn’t taken away until the man giving them breakfast the next day noticed his eyes.

A month before Logan’s 5th birthday he and Remus were painting together when his eyes went dark. He made it three days before a caretaker noticed his eyes, and he was taken away.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 5th birthday. He didn’t feel any different. He had gone to breakfast and eaten, and afterwards a caretaker came up to him. He had looked up at her, squinting against the sunlight. She had looked at his eyes and waved him off to go play.

Logan woke up a month after his 5th birthday. One of the caretakers pulled him aside and started telling him that different letters made different sounds. He had been confused, but followed her directions.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 6th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 7th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 8th birthday. He watched as a four year old with white eyes was taken away. He turned to the caretaker who was holding a book.

“Why haven’t my eyes changes? I’m old enough.”

“They’ll change soon,” had been the caretaker’s only answer. Logan had studied her face for a moment.

“What are we doing today?”

“We’ll read and then practice multiplication.”

“Okay,” Logan replied. After they did that and he was told to go play he sat in a corner instead of approaching the toys.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 9th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 10th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 11th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 12th birthday. He had looked at the caretaker who approached him.

“I’m taller than you.”

“You are.”

“Why do eyes change colors?”

The caretaker didn’t have an answer for him.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 13th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 14th birthday. 

Logan woke up on the morning of his 15th birthday. He looked at the caretaker who approached him.

“How old are you?”

“24.”

“I’m closer in age to you than to any of the other children here.”

The caretaker didn’t have an answer.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 15th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 16th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 17th birthday.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 18th birthday. He looked at the caretaker who approached him.

“Where do you take children when their eyes change colors?”

“White-eyed children are taken to the white door and black-eyed children are taken to the black door.”

“What’s beyond those doors?”

“Societies. Roads, towns, trains, cars, all the things you learn about.”

“Why have you taught me about those things?”

The caretaker didn’t have an answer for him.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 19th birthday. He approached a caretaker.

“Can I help care for the children?”

“You’re a child, go play,” their response came automatically.

“I’m 19. I don’t think I qualify as a child anymore.”

The caretaker had looked at him, “Let’s talk to my boss.”

Logan followed them. The caretaker’s boss became his boss, as well.

Logan woke up on the morning of his 20th birthday. He walked over to the play area. The first couple of kids were running out of the breakfast area to get prime spots for the morning cartoons. His eyes combed over them as more and more kids ran over. At precisely 9AM he turned on the television to the opening song of a cartoon. 40 odd voices in various degrees of off-key-edness belted along. They remained raptly on the television, then, after the show ended, they turned and scattered to the toys and games as one. His attention was diverted from a lively game of leap frog by the sound of crying. He turned to see a child with half of a purple crayon in each hand.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“It broke. It don’t work anymore,” the child hiccuped. 

“It does work, look,” Logan took the pointy end of the crayon from the child and scribbled a line on a scrap piece of paper.

“It do work? Why?”

“It’s pigmented wax, er, colored wax. When you draw a little bit of it gets left on the paper, which is what you see.”

“Hurt the crayon? Don’t hurt the crayon!”

“It doesn’t hurt the crayon,” Logan assured the child, holding the piece of the crayon out to them. The child looked at it with wide eyes, then slowly took the crayon. They drew a line on the paper Logan had scribbled on.

“Sorry. Don’t draw on other paper.”

“I don’t mind.”

“But I broke your spider!”

Logan looked down at the scribble. If he squinted and tilted his head he could kind of see how the child could call it a spider.

“It can be fixed,” he replied, and took the crayon back. He added to the scribble until it more closely resembled a cartoonish spider. 

“Cool! Cool! I can have?”

“Yes, you can have it.”

The child ended up pulling Logan in to drawing and talking with them for the entire morning, during which he learned the child was a 3-year-old boy named Virgil who loved spiders, drawings, and the duck character on the cartoons. Logan shooed Virgil away for lunch while he cleaned up. Virgil went back to the drawing table after lunch, but didn’t come to get Logan from where he was helping another child with a puzzle. When he was done Virgil ran up to him holding up a drawing of a stick figure person with huge glasses.

“Look! It you!”

“I see that.”

“Take! It you!”

“Thank you,” Logan replied, kneeling to take the paper.

It became their routine. They drew together in the mornings, then after lunch Virgil would keep drawing and give Logan something he created.

Almost a year had passed since Logan had first met Virgil. They were drawing when suddenly Virgil went quiet.

“Are you alright, Virgil?”

“Why they here?”

“Why is who here?”

“They,” Virgil replied, pointing to the empty wall behind Logan.

“There’s no one there, Virgil.”

“No lie! They there.”

“Can you describe them to me?”

“They sharp. They mean. Don’t take me them! Don’t take me them!”

“I won’t take you to them,” Logan said gently. That seemed to mollify Virgil for a moment.

“They coming! They hurt. They gonna hurt me.”

“I won’t let them hurt you, Virgil.”

“They gonna hurt me! No let they hurt me!”

“Virgil, I need you to focus on me. Do you remember what you just drew?”

“It a rocket.”

“What’s in the rocket?”

“Me and you.”

“Is there anyone else?”

“No. Just me and you.”

“Where is the rocket going?”

“It going to space. A big planet. Made of paper and color wax.”

“What are we going to do on the planet?”

“Draw. We make little people. Little people are friends. Little people make food. Little people make house.”

“How long are we doing to stay on the planet?”

“For forever!”

“That’s a very long time.”

“Big planet is home. Me and you go on rocket to home. I promise.”

“Okay, Virgil,” Logan replied. Virgil seemed calm, although Logan saw him looking towards the empty wall every now and then, then looking to Logan. 

That night one of the nighttime caretakers ran into Logan’s room.

“Logan, do you know Virgil?”

“Yes?”

“He had a nightmare, and he won’t calm down. He keeps yelling about some people hurting him and you.”

Logan found his glasses and put them on, “I’ll go see what I can do. Thank you.” He rushed down the hallway without waiting for their response. He heard Virgil before he saw him. Caretakers were assuring half-asleep kids that they could go back to bed soon, and another caretaker was trying to comfort the screaming Virgil.

“Virgil, can you hear me?”

“Loga! They gonna hurt me! They gonna hurt me! They sharp! They have big teeth. To bite with. They eat me! They eated Loga!

“Virgil, it’s alright. I’m here. Do you remember what you drew?”

“That no important! They gonna hurt me! They eated Loga!”

“You drew a rocket, Virgil. Inside of the rocket was you and me. We were on a trip to a big planet made of paper and colored wax in space. We were going there to draw and make our home there with the little people.”

Virgil looked up at Logan slowly.

“Loga? They no eated you.”

“They didn’t eat me. I’m right here.”

“I thought they eated you.”

“I’m right here. I won’t let anyone eat me or you.”

Virgil crawled into his lap and curled against his chest, wrapping his hands in Logan’s shirt.

“We gonna go to the big planet with the little people. They no come, okay? They no come on the rocket.”

“I know, Virgil.”

“Promise. They no come on the rocket.”

“They will not come on to the rocket with us, Virgil. It will just be you and me.”

“No, the spider have to come. The big planet no has spider. It can’t be home with no spiders.”

“Alright, Virgil, we’ll bring spiders.”

“Okay. We need food, too.”

“What kind of food will you bring?”

“Good food. Like cookie and blackberry. What your favorite food?”

“I like salads.”

“Salad yucky.”

“They don’t give you proper salad.”

“You give me proper salad?”

“I’ll try.”

“Okay.”

“Are you able to fall asleep now?”

“Yeah. Can you sleep?”

“Yes, I can sleep.”

“You go sleep.”

“Will you go to sleep, as well, Virgil?”

“Yeah. I go sleep.”

“I’ll see you in the morning, Virgil.” 

“See you in morning.”

Logan walked back to his room, and the caretakers ushered in the tired children. He collapsed onto his bed, intending to sleep in a little bit. He didn’t suprivise breakfast, so he could afford a few minutes.

He overestimated how much time it took. He rushed into the play area, and Virgil ran at his legs.

“I thought they eated you. We no go to space if you eated.”

“Did you eat breakfast, Virgil?”

“No, I want to see you.”

“You need to eat, Virgil. I’ll be here when you’re done.”

“Promise?”

“I promise I’ll be here when you’re done eating breakfast.”

“Okay,” Virgil replied and walked back to the breakfast area. Logan waited where he was. It wasn’t long before Virgil reappeared. 

“You here.”

“I promised I would be here.”

“Good. I eated breakfast.”

“That’s good. I have to turn on the television now.”

“Okay,” Virgil replied. Logan stepped towards the television, and Virgil followed.

“Go sit down. We can draw together after this episode is over.”

“Okay,” Virgil whispered and sat down at the edge of the group. Logan turned on the television and the kids started to sing the theme song. After the episode Logan walked over to the drawing table, and Virgil joined him. Logan leaned down a little to look at Virgil’s eyes. They were dark.

“Virgil, your eyes changed.”

Virgil nodded a little.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“If I tell you take me. I no want to leave.”

“Everyone has to leave at some point.”

“When you leave?”

“When I was 4, then I came back,” Logan lied. He had long since decided on that story. It was much easier to lie to them than tell the truth and have them ask questions he had no answers to.

“I come back?”

“Maybe.”

“I wanna stay with you. If I go from you and me can’t go to the planet.”

“Do you want to go together?”

“But you need stay here. I need stay here.”

“You have to go.”

“But I no want to!”

“It’s alright, Virgil. We’ll go together. Later we can go on the rocket.”

Virgil thought this over.

“We go together. Later we go on the rocket. We go to the big planet and the little people?”

“That is correct, Virgil.”

“Okay.”

“Alright, Virgil, let’s go,” Logan said gently. Virgil held his hand out, and they walked hand in hand to the black door and whatever waited beyond.


End file.
